It seems like every year after Norwescon we drag our torpid, crapulous husks home from SeaTac and muddle through Easter like mental patients on furlough. I myself managed to avoid the Noid on Hangover Day and be a good dad; I'm told Bill Beats only just woke up, and C0splay vomited up some sort of eldritch horror and then went to work. I don't know if any of this is true because -- as you all know -- I don't care enough about my bandmates to make sure they've survived.

And now we're on to the part of the year that has traditionally become our hibernation period, with no one hearing from us until some time in June. I'd love to say we're hard at work on some sort of album or project, but the truth is that without a bender to pursue like a holy crusade or a deadline looming like an angry colonoscopy appointment, it's more likely that we're gonna spend the next two months in various states of shabby undress, watching whatever's available on Netflix in a haze of hookah smoke and Chex Mix. It is entirely possible that during this period of time a stillborn attempt at an EP will gasp a shocked breath from the digital wastebasket of Bill Beats' ProTools dungeon and we'll halfheartedly present it to the world like the baby we claim we always wanted, but I doubt it. I think you've got a better shot convincing me to finish that Rook the Rhymer album I didn't start.

Does this all sound bitter, jaded, and ungrateful? That's cool; it's mostly bullshit. I mean, we have no shows planned or anything, but never fear, Death*Starmy; we've got stuff to keep us busy. If we're good little rappertures, you may even get to hear some of it before summertime. Forget what I said before; we're trying to bake a souffle here.